"You can take me down, you can show me your home... not the place where you live but the place where you belong" --Toad the Wet Sprocket
Oh my it has been way too long since I blogged. I am not keeping my end of the bargain.
I have been planning and preparing for the official coming out party for my cute little house and that has meant lots of finishing touches have taken center stage. Curtains! Artwork! Rugs! Organization! I have kind of felt a little bit like HGTV around here lately.
I got really really irrationally mad at a shelf the other day. A shelf, you say? Yea, a shelf. On the outside, it looks all cute and cool and like it should be a piece of cake to hang on the freaking wall. However, I am convinced it has the soul of the devil and has managed to foil nails, screws, counter-sink devices, wall tabs... you name it, it won't help make it hang straight and not lean askew at a 25 degree angle off the wall. Finally, after it pissed me off enough I yanked the screws out along with pieces of my (beautifully painted) wall. I have now spackled, will touch up paint and if worse comes to worse buy another picture or something to hang on the poor abused drywall.
Other than that, the house is cute and mostly ready for its cotillion this weekend. The rugs look lovely, curtains are hanging cheerfully, and I just have to clean my butt off before people come over because I have been slacking off the last week or three. Does anyone have any ideas on how I can get my cats to stop tracking cat litter all over the house? Little tiny houseshoes?
I will try and figure out how to post pictures of the extreme cuteness that is my house, but don't hold your breath. You know me.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Friday, March 10, 2006
Don't drink, don't smoke, what do you do?
"When I get back I will dream in Barnes and Noble's, oh leave me here oh leave me where angels fear to tread" --Rufus Wainwright
I fear I'm getting old and responsible.
Now, granted, I am typically the one who is the goody-two-shoes rule-follower. Overall, I would say I am dependable. But I occasionally have those moments when I get a little crazy, color outside the lines, act irresponsibly. My problem is that I keep doing things that make it more difficult to do those kind of things on a regular basis.
The house, for example. I LOVE my house. It is the cutest place ever, it's cozy and warm and very me. It occupies my time and my mind though. I shouldn't go to happy hour because I need to do "x" at the house. I don't need to buy those cute shoes because I need to re-grout my tub. I need to stay in this week because I have to pay my electric bill, mortgage, etc. You get the picture.
The job is another encumberment. Again, enjoying the job. (Love is too strong a word for anything I have to get up before 9am on a regular basis for. I do it, not enamoured with the concept.) I find myself working late, bringing work home, dreaming about meetings. It's a little unnerving. I'm not on some huge corporate track. I don't want the climb any ladders or break any glass ceilings (unless I'm with Willy Wonka on a glass elevator. Then, game over.) or race any rats. I just want to do my little job the best I can and make it work with my life. Still the workaholic genes rear their ugly little heads.
My friends are all starting to turn 30. I'm trying to decide if it's a big deal. I have until November to get used to it, so I have started saying it's my age now. I remember when that seemed so far away and so grown up. But now, not so much. There are more people in my life over that age than not.
I think I can come to terms with the responsible part. It's my natural tendency. And you're only as old as you act. So I can get wild and crazy with the best of them - just in moderation. And as long a I make sure I'm in bed by 11pm.
I fear I'm getting old and responsible.
Now, granted, I am typically the one who is the goody-two-shoes rule-follower. Overall, I would say I am dependable. But I occasionally have those moments when I get a little crazy, color outside the lines, act irresponsibly. My problem is that I keep doing things that make it more difficult to do those kind of things on a regular basis.
The house, for example. I LOVE my house. It is the cutest place ever, it's cozy and warm and very me. It occupies my time and my mind though. I shouldn't go to happy hour because I need to do "x" at the house. I don't need to buy those cute shoes because I need to re-grout my tub. I need to stay in this week because I have to pay my electric bill, mortgage, etc. You get the picture.
The job is another encumberment. Again, enjoying the job. (Love is too strong a word for anything I have to get up before 9am on a regular basis for. I do it, not enamoured with the concept.) I find myself working late, bringing work home, dreaming about meetings. It's a little unnerving. I'm not on some huge corporate track. I don't want the climb any ladders or break any glass ceilings (unless I'm with Willy Wonka on a glass elevator. Then, game over.) or race any rats. I just want to do my little job the best I can and make it work with my life. Still the workaholic genes rear their ugly little heads.
My friends are all starting to turn 30. I'm trying to decide if it's a big deal. I have until November to get used to it, so I have started saying it's my age now. I remember when that seemed so far away and so grown up. But now, not so much. There are more people in my life over that age than not.
I think I can come to terms with the responsible part. It's my natural tendency. And you're only as old as you act. So I can get wild and crazy with the best of them - just in moderation. And as long a I make sure I'm in bed by 11pm.
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